I'm stating some facts about what happened in Vegas that should have probably stayed in Vegas, but I needed to get them out of my head and this is my blog for doing exactly that.
You can stop reading at any time, but I cannot stop writing about my life.
I want to begin by immediately expressing that I had a WONDERFUL time in Vegas.
The highlights of the trip for me were the two shows: The Beatles Love Show and Criss Angel's BeLIEve Show. Both involve Cirque de Soleil, and both blew my mind. If you EVER get a chance to see The Beatles Love Show, do not turn it down! (The link has a preview of the show in the upper right corner of that page.) The show is as unique as the Fab Four were when they first hit the music world.
As for Chicago, I have thanked him many times for the trip and the memories of my first Vegas experience. Although, it was rather mild by Vegas standards, I can honestly say no one has ever "gifted" me an entire vacation before. Can many people say that? A five-star hotel. That's quite a luxurious life; certainly not one I am accustomed to living, and believe me I soaked it up in case it was my only chance EVAH.
Side Note: Years ago, L bought me a beach rental for a week, but once I was there, he backed out of joining me, and I had to fund the week's expenses myself.
Vegas. An unreal playground for the sexy, the wealthy, and the truly unusual.
Vegas was lock, stock, and barrel, paid for by Chicago. I thought I would have to pay for my meals, but no. I did pay for my drinks and my gambling, because Chicago did neither of those things, and it would not be fair to allow him to pay for that. Besides, if I won anything, I didn't want to have to split it. Selfish Sag comes out once in a while, and considering I unselfishly gave away my winnings last November, I wasn't about to set myself up like that again.
Chicago really was all too happy to have me there. He said a few times that when he brought his sister in the past, she often did not even want to have meals with him and his mother. (Yes, this is the 2nd time I had a vague Norman Bates moment.) I found that rather cold when I learned that about his sister at the beginning of the trip, but by the end of the trip, I could understand why someone might not want to spend a lot of time with him.
I'll come back to that. First, I have to talk about me (of course), and how I set my expectations.
Let me share a little history, and fill in that since August, Chicago has contacted me every day (7 days a week) via email (because he doesn't text or IM), and we have had basic conversations back and forth around the topics of work, money, future hopes and dreams, how attracted he is to me, how freaking hormonal I am as I approach the 4-0, how dating should be better and different for both of us, how he's given up trying, how I'm still making a considerable effort to date, etc and so forth. I can say there was no topic left undisclosed. Including the topic of Friends who
Zoom back to Vegas time. I got a nice little nightgown. I asked him to bring condoms. As far as I was concerned....it was on like Donkey Kong. Not so fast, Hormonal Cougargirl...not so fast.
He just didn't have IT....it.....the moves, the desire, the inclination, the "IT" required to magnetize the air and bring the two of us together. He had the compliments for how pretty I was, how nice I looked, how great I smelled, how awesome I made the trip, and this key point: that I was welcome to join him in Vegas anytime he went.
But...when it came to the romance or even raw passionate interest, nada. Less than zero level of interest shown.
And I tried. God how I tried. I threw myself at him, even literarily at one point. He would kiss but not french kiss, and he wouldn't make a move. I would make suggestive remarks, including "hey birthday boy is there anything I can do for you" wearing a towel, smelling fabulous, and oozing sexy from my earlobes - my very personal best effort. Taking the buckle off his belt only brought about an "I'm tired," comment that put me off instantly. And preferring to watch marathon episodes of Seinfeld were all the signs I needed.
OK, I thought, he just isn't THAT into me in THAT way. Got it, I thought. But then...he'd say something (I'm too hot for him to handle) or he'd do something (like spring for a taxi when my feet hurt), that would just make me think otherwise.
So I felt rather confused, even as I was enjoying myself. I sought out instant advice from my Carolina Girl and my Molto Bello Italia. But in the end, it wasn't me, isn't me, and never will be me. What it ultimately comes down to is that he is just THAT awkward with women, and he just doesn't know what he wants or how to go about getting it.
And I can be a sure thing birthday gift, but I can't make his package work for him. He's gotta put some effort up.
So... getting back to....why would even his own sister want to ditch him in Vegas?
Well, I think there's a word for him: quirky. He's quirky and some people just can't handle it.
He's not talkative; he'll make little to no effort to converse. If we could only have sat across from each other and emailed, it would have been better. Yet, if he feels a certain level of comfort, he'll poke me in the shoulder at the oddest moments. Like when I was getting dressed or putting makeup on or standing at the window watching the view! And when I won on the slot machine, there was a poking that really startled me.
He doesn't know how to swim. He's been to Vegas 30 times and never tried to go into the pools or spas. He experienced his first jacuzzi on the trip with me. He doesn't gamble or drink or go to sex shows, yet he chooses to go to Vegas over any other destination.
In the end, I made his trip unique and special. I'm glad I was able to do that for him, even though my expectations (of being with him, not of Vegas) were not met.
He's led a sheltered life, by choice, yet he's chosen one of the most extravagant and flamboyant locations to vacation on a yearly basis. Once there, I would have thought he'd throw off his inhibitions and let Vegas seep into his bones a little. He jokes regularly about wishing he could live the Entourage lifestyle, but we couldn't even get a little Backstreet Boys action happening. After all, he wouldn't pay the $10 admission fee to have his photo taken in a Maserati.
I did find myself yearning for conversation and more lively company, and on more than one occasion found myself flirting openly with other men.
Is it all his fault? No. He is who he is.
Is it all my fault? No. I am who I am.
And in this eharmless failed in epic fashion.
We are in no way romantically compatible. Friends? Sure. But we will never be anything more.
And sure, it is great to have a friend who would give so much money generously, but I found myself craving even basic conversation with someone whom I have more than generic commonalities beyond both of us being humans struggling in this world.
Money can buy a fantastic trip. Money just can't buy compatibility.